


This is Love

by cherryraes



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Heartbreak, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Richie Tozier Being an Asshole, Sad Eddie Kaspbrak, Sad with a Happy Ending, richie and eddie are both dumb and gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 02:46:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryraes/pseuds/cherryraes
Summary: hi! if you follow me on tumblr (@cherrysreddie) then you've probably known about this story and have read it when i released it two years ago, but all i'm doing is uploading all mhy work on here because i really like the format of ao3! anyway, if you haven't read this already, i hope you love it!





	This is Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! if you follow me on tumblr (@cherrysreddie) then you've probably known about this story and have read it when i released it two years ago, but all i'm doing is uploading all mhy work on here because i really like the format of ao3! anyway, if you haven't read this already, i hope you love it!

Eddie Kaspbrak was in pain.

And no, it wasn’t because he foolishly had drank too much the night before and had a raging headache. It wasn’t because his voice was hoarse and his throat was sore from the screaming out his sorrows. And no, it wasn’t from the cut above his eyebrow left untreated because the drunken haze afflicted on him last night.

No, this kind of pain was one that burrowed into your skin and festered into something dangerous. The type of pain that bruised you, that haunted you throughout all your days, and most horribly, your nights. This pain you couldn’t escape. This pain was love.

Eddie Kaspbrak was in love.

He looked beside him at the mess of curls laying on his pillow. His eyes traced the trail of freckles dusted upon perfect cheekbones and a structured nose. Eddie’s small fingers reached and ran themselves through the dark locks, brushing his thumb along his bed mate’s plump bottom lip.

Suddenly, Eddie remembered how these things went. Eddie retracted his hand like he’d been burned, tears threatening to spill out his eyes. No matter how many times they’d been in bed together, how many drunken confessions they’d shared, nothing ever changed.

Richie Tozier wasn’t his, and he never would be.

The thought sent a ripple of pain through Eddie's chest and suddenly the world became too blurry to see. This always happened. Richie called him, he’d beg him to come out with him, they’d get drunk, and up in bed together and whisper promises of things they both knew would never come.

Eddie knew how these things worked, he knew Richie. You see, _drunk_ Richie would make promises of love and future, of happiness and appreciation but _sober Richie? _Oh, sober Richie was quite the opposite. Sober Richie was Eddie's friend. Sober Richie slept with anything that moved and didn’t care about how it made Eddie feel. Sober Richie didn’t even look at Eddie as more than just his best friend.

The pain bubbled in his stomach at the thought. Images of last night and various others flood his mind; his hands tugging at Richie's curls, Eddie's name falling from Richie's lips, a soft bubble of want and need swirling between them.

Eddie then remembered how it was after the last time they slept together. How it felt to catch Richie coming out of his neighbor’s apartment without a single care in the world. Or the ripping of his heart when he danced with guy after girl after guy at the club they went to.

Eddie couldn’t take it. Since he was 14, since they were in the eighth grade he’d been in love with this idiot yet the two still couldn’t seem to get their act together. Staring up at the pale white ceiling, the tears started to fall rapidly. All Eddie wanted was Richie. To hold and love like his own, instead of catch him at fleeting moments between hookups.

Then Eddie was angry. How could Richie treat him like this? Treat him like he wanted to give Eddie the world when he had alcohol flowing through his veins, but completely ignoring him when in his right frame of mind. Eddie didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to cry himself to sleep each night, mind littered with constant ‘what-ifs’ and silly hopes for the future.

Eddie got so angry he couldn’t stand to be around Richie. He slid out of his dark blue sheets, the tears still falling and picked up all of Richie's clothes off the floor. He gathered them in one hand and with all his strength, hurled them at the sleeping boy.

Richie woke up with a start, flinching at the clothes he saw next to him. He looked up at Eddie with hooded eyes, heart momentarily skipping a beat. Eddie’s somewhat curly hair was messy and adorable, his small frame draped only in Richie's shirt from the night before. Richie never told him, but he secretly loved it when Eddie wore his clothes.

He almost smiled right then, but suddenly remembered the way he was awakened. Richie looked closely at Eddie's face and his eyes widened, taking note at the tear stains down the beautiful boy’s face. “Eddie?” Richie’s voice was soft and raspy. “What’s wrong?”

“Get out.”

Richie froze, eyes glazing over. “What?”

“I said get out, Richie. Get out and never come back.” Eddie could feel the words clawing up his throat and he hated the way they tasted.

“Eddie- I don’t understand-”

“Of course you fucking don’t,” Eddie scoffed. “you never get it Richie. I’m done with this, i’m done with us.”

“Eddie, what are you talking about? What happened?” Richie had a dangerous feeling he knew where this conversation was going and he didn’t want it. He rounded the bed, now only a couple feet from Eddie. "We have _fun_ together, Eds."

“That’s the problem, Richie. It’s always just fun. It’s always just a night. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Eddie, baby, listen-”

And then, Eddie snapped.

“No, you fucking listen, _Richard_! ” Eddie screamed, closing the distance between the two. He poked Richie's harshly, causing Richie to back up. “You do this to me again and again, and I can’t any more. No more hookups. No more calling me when none of the others will answer the phone. No more spending the night. No more drunken promises that never carry to morning. I’m done, Richie.”

Richie’s blood ran cold at the words. At the amount of heartache placed beneath them. “Eddie- stop. We have something good, don’t ruin it. Don’t make us stop-”

“Good? Tell me, Richie what’s good about this?” He was chalked full of unbearably heavy thoughts and his heart was on fire. “I’m in love with you, idiot!”

He had never said it sober before, neither or them had, but now it hung in the air around them, painfully loud. Richie looked at Eddie desperately, begging him to take it back. To say _“just kidding!”_ So that they could go back to what they had before. Richie Tozier didn’t do love, he couldn’t.

“And i know you don’t love me, Rich. Or you won’t, whichever one, but i can’t put myself through this anymore. It hurts, Richie. Seeing you with somebody else feels like my heart is torn out of my chest. I love you, Richie Tozier, but i won’t destroy myself anymore because if it.”

Richie’s throat closed up and his chest constricted painfully. He wanted to say a million and one things, but all he could do was sit and stare heartbroken at the boy in front of him.

He could see the decision set in Eddie's eyes and he hated it. When Eddie was sure of something there was no getting around it.

“Eddie, please.” Eddie nearly lost it at the crack in Richie's voice but didn’t, instead throwing him his keys.

“Get out, Richie. Of my apartment and my life. Lose my number.”

Richie wanted to yell. He wanted to scream that he loved Eddie too, but he was scared, so fucking scared of what that means. He wanted to kiss the tears off his face and tell him he needs him, and that all those drunken promises were still valid now. He wanted to say so many things, but he couldn’t.

So, instead he grabbed his shoes off the floor, and headed across the apartment to the front door, pausing once more to look at the probable love of his life. Eddie looked down, shoulders shaking in seeming agony and Richie Tozier swears he could hear his heart break at the sight.

“Goodbye, Eds.”

He closes the door with a soft click, and before his body can comprehend what’s happening he’s crying, sliding down the door slowly.

Eddie is on the other side as well, on his apartment floor, grasping the thin fabric he wears with conviction, scent of Richie, cigarettes and vanilla, cloud his brain and weary heart as he sobs.

And Eddie realizes that this is love. Wanting but not obtaining. Love is needing someone so severely but realizing that sometimes it can’t always work the way you want it to. Love can be kind but love is cruel and selfish, stripping away at the very foundation of your heart. Love is fearing your worth will only bring someone down, or fearing you’ll never be what they deserve. Love is throwing out the one person who makes you so happy you could burst, but also makes you cry harder than you’ve ever known. Love is Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak, on opposite sides of the same door, two halves of a whole heart, sobbing because all the things that could never be.

This is love.


End file.
